


why don't you make me

by pistol_red



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: F/F, Stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistol_red/pseuds/pistol_red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was fine, she wasn't going to be in Boston for long, she could catch up with her quick, fast and easy, and they could do what they did best: fight, get off, and then fight some more. They had a thing. It worked. </p>
<p>Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	why don't you make me

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I wouldn't know these ladies wanted to bone if not for impertinence's amazing fics so go read those instead of this. Go now. What are you still doing here?
> 
> Fair warning; I have no idea how to write, grammatically speaking as well as spelling and general flow, also, I do not know enough about these ladies to be writing about them, nor do I know anything about Boston, or life in general so everything is going to be all horribly wrong. This story basically makes no sense and it just numerous paragraphs of Cassie Campbell ranting in her head. There's basically no F/F here either, but that's only because I can't write dialogue. There's relatively liberal usage of the word "bitch" as well as "slut". The people in this fic are kind of awful and probably totally lovely in real life. Also there's age difference but everyone's legal. I'm so sorry about this guys. Please forgive me.

Cassie didn't really want to think about it, she just tightened her hands on the steering wheel and pressed on the gas resolutely and headed to where _her_ dorms were. 

This was fine, she wasn't going to be in Boston for long, she could catch up with her quick, fast and easy, and they could do what they did best: fight, get off, and then fight some more. They had a thing. It worked. 

Sort of. 

She drove through the streets, annoyance at something she wasn't quite sure about growing, angrily flicking the radio stations to try to find anything bearable to listen to. The first thing that came on was MMMBop. Cassie thought if she had any brains left she would take this as a sign to get out and preferably never come back, who’d want to be in _Boston_ anyway, but that she couldn't really be blamed because….well, orgasms, so. Yeah. 

She didn't know exactly where Angela lived by heart or anything, it's not _weird_ or anything. But she did know that Angela moved housing so that she would be closer to the rink a few months ago. Cassie talks to people, okay, she’s interested in the ins and outs of Women’s Hockey and has it at top priority to keep ahead of the competition. 

There won’t be a repeat of ’98. That _bitch_. Didn't fucking deserve it. 

Staring at the unassuming building Cassie froze for a moment, not sure what she should do, before snarling at herself that it was just Ruggiero who was in fucking college and didn't have even half the talent that she thought she did. 

Cassie’s step was broken by a girl’s voice from behind her saying, “Oh, are you Amy’s teacher? She said that she was meeting up with her lit professor at 4. You’re a little early though.” 

Cassie turned and stared at the girl, stupid and blonde and how did that little bitch get into Harvard, and was she talking to her? Cassie didn't look _old_. 

Cassie almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, getting mistaken for a teacher, coming here to fuck a student, how charming. “I’m twenty-six. And I’m not a professor,” she said, almost pityingly as the girl grimaced slightly and said, “I really just thought you were one of those super smart professors that graduated college at like, fifteen, it was your air of uh….um… yeah, sorry." 

Cassie couldn't help the smirk forming on her face, “I’m sure,” she said, while the girl looked at her apologetically, and then Cassie had an idea, “Angela Ruggerio lives here, right?” It was possible that she hadn't contacted her before showing up here, sometimes she didn't have the time. It didn't matter much though, Angela always wanted it, Angela was a slut. 

The girl looked relived at the change of conversation and immediately brightened, “Oh yeah! Angela!” a sickeningly giggly and almost breathy tone entered her voice before she continued, “she’s…like, she’s just, so…so great,” she said, a smile breaking out across her flushed face. 

Cassie felt a sharp spike of annoyance shoot through her as she gritted her teeth, good god Angela, how’d you have to fuck this girl to make talk like that? Cassie knew her well enough to know that she didn't merit any giggles or breathlessness. 

“Do you know if she’s here now,” Cassie asked sharply, wanting to get away from this girl as fast as possible. 

“Oh no, not right now, she’s at the rink. She’ll be back soon though, if you’d like to wait, I can let you in…?” She trailed off, looking at her questioningly. 

“No,” Cassie said abruptly, she wasn't going to wait around for her, women waited for Cassie, not the other way around, before quickly remembering that she was Canadian, “...thank you.” 

Cassie left the vaguely confused looking girl, breeze softly tossing her hair and the sunlight glaring obnoxiously on her sparkly shirt, mentally rolling her eyes at the girl who’d just hand out information to a perfect stranger. 

Not that she had anything to worry about; Cassie wouldn't do anything to Angela of course, well, not anything that would result in major injuries anyway, Cassie thought, smirking a little. Maybe Angela would come out raw and more than a little sore when she’s done with her, but it’d be nothing she wouldn't take wholeheartedly and love every minute of it. 

But still, she thought, the frown coming back onto her face as she walked down the sidewalk towards the rink, it’s stupid to give out the information on people’s whereabouts to strangers who you mistake for professors. She doesn't look old at all. And she knows that, but still, the girl thought she was a professor, and well, it’s not like Angela had a long list of people who were out to harm her, well, not a long list at least, but she felt a prickle of annoyance at Angela for letting her stupid friends be careless. It’s not like she cared, but come on, it was just common sense. 

Cassie found her way to the ice rink and only had to step in the front door before seeing Angela standing on the other side of the entrance room, wearing ugly sweats with a duffel slung over her shoulder and pulling her hair back into a ponytail. 

She looked like a mess. All red faced, sweaty still, covered in it, and in desperate need for a shower. She probably stinks too, Cassie thought, and her hair was a tangled mess. It was so obvious that she had just come from a taxing workout. She looked gross. Cassie wanted to jump her. 

She found herself frozen for a moment before swallowing, annoyed at herself, taking a hard step forward and clearing her throat loudly. 

Angela looked up and met Cassie's eyes, her whole body going completely still. 

They just stood there staring at each other for a minute before Cassie stomped down the strange feeling bubbling in her gut, scoffed and said, “Well, it was probably a mistake coming here. If you already look so worn out after _just_ a practice, I doubt you could handle anything else _I_ could give you.” 

The surprise vanished right off Angela’s face and was replaced with a look of amusement and a just little anger. “If I remember right, it’s _you_ that can’t handle _me_ ,” she said with a bright smile, “If last year’s game was anything to go by,” she finished, smiling directly at Cassie, exactly like a, _"yeah, I brought that up, you bitch."_

Cassie felt anger unfurl in her gut and rush through her chest. Yeah, that was why she came here, because Angela needs to be put in her place, and that’s exactly what she tells her. 

Angela’s eyes flash dark for a second and she swallows loudly before her face clears and she arches an eyebrow and says, cockiness coating her words, “Why don’t you make me.” 

It isn't a question, but Cassie is more than up for the challenge. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow you made it through. Have a delicious cookie filled with chocolate chips and happiness. Also if you have any pity, con crit? :)


End file.
